Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
My whole life, I thought I'd die on this ranch. This place has always been home to me. I thought I'd spend the rest of my life here, guarding this land and the herd like my father did, and his before him, and his before that. But if Cassia isn't happy here, if she'd rather be in Seattle, I'll follow her. To the ends of the earth if that's what she wants. My home is with her now. My heart beats in her chest. I'll go wherever I have to go, do whatever I have to do to keep her in my arms.
When I pull the kitchen door open, a blast of cold air hits me in the face, followed by the disgruntled mooing of hundreds of heads of cattle shut up in the barns. They'd rather be grazing than stuck inside, but cows freeze just like the rest of us. And this ranch isn't successful because we mistreat our animals. Any ranch-hand who tries finds himself out on his ass before the blood even dries on his face.
"Oh, wow," Cassia whispers, her breath steaming out before her. "It's so beautiful, Cord."
She's right. It is beautiful. Snow blankets the ranch, spread from one horizon to another in a sea of white. Fences and equipment, even the barns and outbuildings are covered in a thick layer of the stuff. It still drifts from trees, flakes floating through the air like leaves in autumn. Toby has one of the younger ranch-hands on a plow, clearing a path between barns and the corral.
I make my way carefully down the porch, my boots crunching in the snow. Cassia gawks all around us just like she did yesterday. She's so curious, so eager to learn. A million different questions spill from her lips as we make our way toward the barn housing the pregnant heifers and the calves. She knows a hell of a lot more about ranching than most people, but I already knew that. Her books get even minute details right about this job.
Cowboys though…those she didn't get. We're possessive assholes, willing to fight and die to protect what belongs to us. Whether it's the ground beneath our feet, the cattle in our fields, or the women in our beds, we don't share and we don't back down. Not ever. She's getting it now.
I slide her carefully to her feet when we reach the barn and tuck her up against my side. She cuddles up against me, letting me hold her as several of my men cast curious glances in our direction. No one asks any questions or looks too long though. I'm guessing Jace and Toby already spread the word that she's mine. They'll keep a respectful distance.
"This is the calving barn," I say, leading her inside. It's warmer inside where heaters pump heat in to keep the heifers comfortable. But this close to the end, they're never entirely comfortable. Is any woman when she's ready to pop? Most of the heifers are quiet, content in their pens. A few protest being shut up inside with loud complaints that others echo.
"Wow," Cassia whispers, stopping just inside the door. "It's massive."
"We calve out in groups of about three hundred," I explain. "Every cow in here will be delivering sometime in the next two weeks."
"Wow," she whispers again. "They all have their babies in here?"
"Preferably. You see how the pens are set up?" I ask, pointing to the one closest to us. "They usually start off in the larger pen outside, and then move indoors once it's time. Inside the barns, the pens are about ten feet each, with a warming room for the calves. They spend a day or two inside together before moving out into a smaller pen outside. They're all inside now because of the weather."
"Poor girls," she says, moving deeper into the barn. One of the heifers sticks her head out of the pen and nudges her, mooing softly. Cassia laughs quietly and stops walking. She sticks her hand out like she's going to pet her and then turns to look at me. "May I?"
"You can touch her, pretty baby," I say, smiling. "They're affectionate."
Cassia runs her hand over the top of the heifer's head, crooning to her. "Hey, mama," she whispers. "You're doing so good in there. Your little one will be here soon, I promise."
The heifer lows.
Cassia rubs between her ears for a minute, murmuring to her. I don't know if the others sense her presence or hear her calming voice, but they all settle, their protests fading to little more than the occasional huff of discontent.
"Come on, princess. Let's go check on the new calf," I say.
She pouts at me and then reluctantly lets me pull her away.
The newest calf is in a warming pen near the back of the barn, cuddled up in a thick swatch of fresh hay. She's all legs and head, sleeping peacefully with her mama watching over her. Jace says she was born late last night.